Goliath
by JigsawStitches
Summary: Bandit has wandererd the Mojave Wasteland with her trained deathclaw for years. But when a mysterious man approaches the duo and explains Bandit's life is in danger, will the two run and hide or protect themselves and fight back against the unknown evil?


Goliath grunted loudly, waking Bandit from her troubled sleep. What had she been dreaming of again? Legionaries torturing her? Bandit shivered and half opened one eye to take a look at Goliath. The creature was big and sturdy, able to fight when needed and hunt as well. He was, all in all, a very beautiful deathclaw, scars and all. Bandit had raised him since she had found him by the Quarry, a runt abandoned by its mother. It was very rare for a deathclaw to be non-hostile towards humans, Goliath being the only known exception. She and the beast had a bit of a reputation around the wasteland. True, they didn't have the best reputation, but they were still recognized as Good Guys for some reason.

"Hungry, pretty boy?" Bandit cooed, admiring the beast.

Goliath rumbled a gowl and straightened from his crouching position, stalking forward quietly.

"Goliath? Where are you going?" Bandit asked, moving so she was kneeling. When the deathclaw didn't so much as look at her, she knew something was wrong and stood. She gathered her bag and stomped out the last embers of the nearly dead fire. Tucking her long dark hair into a ponytail and fastening it in place, she followed the wandering deathclaw, calling after him occasionally.

"Ridiculous!" she muttered to herself. "Dawn is still hours away and you decide that now is the time for a walk. What are you thinking?"

Her armour, dubbed Badlands armour, didn't repel cold as much as she would like. Usually she didn't mind, but tonight was very strangely cold. Or maybe it was her imagination. In the distance, a yelp of a Night Stalker could be heard, echoing slightly. Bandit looked at her Pipboy, which she had stolen from a dead vault dweller a couple years ago. Her map told her Goliath was heading toward Primm. What did he plan on doing there? Not like he could go shopping. Bandit wondered if Goliath was going to try and eat someone. He'd be shot by NCR before he could get into the main part of town though, and he knew it. Bandit had taught him to recognize NCR troopers and to steer clear of them. NCR didn't like deathclaws much...

Once Goliath had reached the outskirts of Primm, he turned back and looked to where we had been camping. Following his gaze, Bandit watched the area, seeing flashes that could only be gunfire. Wait, what? No one had been around when they'd left. But Goliath had known. He snorted at the area and looked at Bandit as if to say _Just trust me_.

"How did you know, boy?" Bandit asked, stroking the deathclaws forehead.

Bandit decided to keep moving until they were a good distance from Primm and any NCR soldiers who could pose a threat.

In the morning, Bandit fed Goliath and herself all the while watching the land around her. Who had been shooting last night? Legionaries and NCR? Scavengers fighting over some remenant? It all seemed likely, but at the same time, not. What were the chances that a fight would take place in the same spot they'd been camping only minutes after they'd left it? Goliath knew something Bandit didn't. If only he could tell her.

"So, what shall we do today, boy?" Bandit asked, licking her fingers.

Goliath grunted and looked behind him. Bandit again followed his gaze. A lone figure was walking in the distance. Bandit grabbed her binoculars from her ratty old bag and looked through them. The magnification wasn't the best, but it showed a male figure with a big weapon of some sort hanging on its back. A club? Anti-material rifle, maybe? Bandit didn't know. Could he see them? She thought so. But wouldn't he have drawn his weapon if he'd seen a deathclaw? He must know it's us, she thought. Bandit drew her own weapon, a Gauss rifle, and waited. When the person was within a few feet she raised her weapon and called out for him to stay where he was.

"Let me be blunt," he said roughly, his face masked by a bandana. "I've got a high paying job for you, and I know for a fact you'll be interested when I tell you it could save your life."

Bandit glared. "Don't you know by now that no life can be saved out here?"

"This is different," the man said. He sounded young, but deffinitly older than her fourteen or so years.

"Explain," was all she said, not lowering her rifle.

"Can I maybe do this without a gun pointed at my head?" he asked, making a joke out of it.

Bandit lowered the Gauss rifle so it now pointed to his crotch. "Better?"

He sighed and slowly un-hooked his weapon, an Anti-material rifle, from it's place on his back, lowering it to the ground and kicking it to the side. "Fair trade?"

Bandit hesitated and glanced at Goliath, searching for signs of hostility. Seeing none, she slowly lowered her weapon and sat back down. If the guy tried anything, Goliath would rip him appart anyway.


End file.
